


Five Times Jeff Doesn’t say “I Love You” to Chip (And One Time he Does)

by accordingtomel



Category: Drew Carey's Improv-A-Ganza RPF, Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 08:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accordingtomel/pseuds/accordingtomel
Summary: See the title. What it says on the tin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this was another fic I apparently wrote and posted in June of 2011 over on LJ. Seems like that was a busy month for me :). I think this was also my favourite Jeff/Chip fic I wrote, too. Anyway, on with the show!
> 
>  **Original A/N:** So apparently these two have invaded my brain and refuse to leave. Therefore, I’m back with more fic. I must say a huge, huge thanks to the lovely adelagia and sheswatching for providing me with a beta and super helpful feedback! You both are super awesome and I appreciate your help so very much! Also, I've always wanted to write a 'Five Times' fic, but this is the first time it's ever really worked for me. So yay for that! These boys are inspiring ;)

**I**

The first time Jeff meets Charles “Chip” Esten, he has only one thought: _I think everything in my life is about to change._

It is overly dramatic and silly and a bit ridiculous, but then again, that’s just Jeff in a nutshell. He’s met hundreds, if not thousands of people in his life, more than the average person, especially given his profession, but there is something distinctly different about Chip that takes Jeff all of about five minutes to realize.

He is friendly and personable, someone you instantly take a strong liking to, because it just doesn’t seem possible to do anything _else_ , what with his enthusiastic laugh and kind nature. But the thing that first stands out to Jeff, above Chip’s natural charisma and humor, is how unbelievably genuine he appears to be. It’s the kind of thing you can’t fake – either you have it or you don’t, and everything about Chip oozes sincerity.

(Then there is the added bonus of Chip’s rather pleasant facial structure and toned body, both of which Jeff would have to be blind to miss. But he doesn’t like to cheapen the memory by focusing too much on the shallower aspect of things, especially when Chip has so much more to offer than good looks.)

“Jeffrey Bryan Davis, huh? Strong name. I like it,” Chip says with a grin, grip firm as they shake hands.

Jeff smiles. “Call me Jeff.”

Chip’s lips quirk in amusement and he breaks the handshake. “Okay then, Jeff. Nice to meet you. You seem like a good guy. I’m sure it’ll be a blast working together. Good luck out there, man.”

If Jeff is impressed after five minutes of standing around and talking to Chip, he doesn’t even have the words to describe watching him in action. The guy is brilliant in every sense of the word. He’s got a quick, sharp humor, incredible comedic talent, and one hell of an amazing voice.

It’s enough to make him question what the hell he’s even doing here at this audition, especially with the likes of Ryan Stiles, Colin Mochrie and Greg Proops also in the room with them, all legends in their own right. Nearly all of them have been doing this since Jeff was a baby, and he is suddenly starkly aware of his youth in comparison.

Surprisingly – or maybe not so surprisingly – Jeff finds that he fits in rather well with everyone, and almost instantaneously develops a rapport with both Ryan and Chip, though he enjoys doing scenes with everyone.

When they’re done, Chip makes his way over to Jeff and nudges his arm, a playful smile on his lips. “So, what do you think?”

 _I think I might be in love with you,_ is the first thing that comes to mind, but somehow Jeff doubts that it’s the best way to start this relationship off, especially if there’s potential for them to work together in the future, which he may or may not be desperately hoping for. Besides that, he’s fairly certain that Chip wasn’t specifically talking about him, but the experience in general.

“I thought it was fucking awesome,” Jeff says instead.

“Great! I’m glad to hear it. I hope we’ll have a chance to work together again soon,” Chip says, and claps him on the shoulder, smiling warmly before heading out of the theatre.

As he watches Chip walk away, Jeff can’t help but think: _Me too._

* * *

**II**

The thing about Jeff is: he likes to drink. It’s not that he gets drunk all that often, contrary to what it might seem, but he’s fortunate in the sense that his line of work allows him the opportunity to drink on the job, as it were. So the fact that he’s still rather fond of drinking at the ripe old age of 34 than others his age shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.

Unfortunately, sometimes Jeff and alcohol just aren’t compatible. This happens to be one of those particular evenings, following their latest show in Vegas. The thing is, he hasn’t even had all that much yet, or at least not nearly as much as is usual after they do a show. No, the problem is that Jeff is a fucking klutz, in addition to thinking he’s more athletic than he actually is. Throughout his life, Jeff has heard warnings against dancing on swivel chairs. Now he understands the wisdom of those words.

The result is a spectacularly ungraceful fall over the back of the chairs and onto the ground. He is also about a foot away from smashing his head into the corner of a nearby table. Without doubt, it is not one of his finer moments in life. Thankfully, he doesn’t take any innocent bystanders down with him. It isn’t a pretty sight, but sadly, his ego is not the only thing that ends up bruised this evening. It’s possible he’s broken his right ankle in the process, from the sounds of it.

Which is how Jeff ends up in a cab with Chip, who volunteered to escort him to the ER, trying not to react to the throbbing pain in his leg like a small child. It’s a battle he’s barely winning.

“You okay, buddy?” Chip asks, halfway through the ride. His hand lands on Jeff’s forearm, and the touch is all that’s needed to ground him long enough to concentrate on answering the question.

“Fantastic,” he grinds out, closing his eyes and praying that they’ll reach the hospital sooner rather than later. Chip gives his arm a squeeze, but doesn’t remove it until they finally pull to a stop in front of the ER.

Chip wordlessly pays the cab driver upon their arrival, and then rushes around to the other side of the car to help Jeff get out. Chip wraps one arm around Jeff’s waist, while the other grips the arm slung across his shoulders.

“You doing all right?” Chip asks after they’ve taken a few tentative steps forward, Chip clearly bearing the brunt of Jeff’s weight.

“Oh, yeah. Just great. We only have about ten steps to take to get into the hospital, and it’ll probably take us an hour at this rate,” Jeff says through clenched teeth.

“I could carry you, if you wanted. But it might further bruise that already fragile ego of yours,” Chip says with a smile, and Jeff can’t help but laugh in response. A comment like that at any other time might’ve filled Jeff’s head with inappropriate thoughts, but now it only makes him wish he could take Chip up on it.

“Yeah, I think I’ll make it somehow,” he says instead, because even Jeff has limits. “But thanks for the offer. I’ll remember that in the future.”

Eventually they make it inside. Much to their chagrin, the waiting room is _packed_ , which means it could be a long night. Thankfully, there is one empty chair near the door, which Chip promptly deposits Jeff into like he’s some sort of rag doll.

“Give me your wallet,” he says.

Jeff blinks up at him in confusion. “Uh, why?”

“So I can steal all your money and go out for a night on the town while you’re incapacitated and unable to stop me,” Chip deadpans. Jeff tries to smile.

A beat passes, and then he continues with, “Or, you know, so I can sign you in at the nursing station. Insurance and all that jazz. Unless you’d prefer to do it yourself?”

“No, definitely not,” Jeff says, and hands his wallet over to Chip.

It feels like forever until Chip returns, but it’s likely only a few minutes at most. Still, it’s long enough, for more than one reason.

“All right, so I have some good news and some bad news,” he says, leaning in close. “What do you want to hear first?”

He doesn’t even have to think about that answer. “The bad.”

“The nurse in charge is going to try and get you in as fast as possible, because they’ll need to set your leg if it really is fractured, but she said that right now, if you’re not bleeding profusely and there’s no bone sticking out of your leg, you’re just going to have to wait.”

Well, it could be worse, Jeff muses wryly to himself. Though not much.

“All right. What’s the good news?” he asks.

Chip ducks his head and a sheepish smile sneaks onto his lips. “You have me to keep you company while you wait?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol flowing through his system, or the pain making his brain think strange things, but for some reason, Jeff finds the statement incredibly hilarious, causing him to break out into a fit of laughter that continues for far longer than is necessary.

“It’s not _that_ funny,” Chip says with a mock pout, and in spite of all the pain Jeff is in, he finds he’s feeling just a bit better.

“I’m sorry. Sorry. It’s just—“ _you always know exactly what to say._ Or maybe, _you’re too fucking adorable for your own good._ Or perhaps even, _God, I love you and your stupid face._ Of course, he can’t say any of these things. So instead, he goes with, “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Chip nods, looking around the room. “Hey, do you want to move to the other end of this row of chairs? I’m sure you don’t want to get up again, but there are a lot of people here and we might be able to avoid more pedestrian traffic and protect your foot by moving away from the hospital entrance?”

As much as Jeff doesn’t enjoy the idea of getting up again, the likelihood of someone bumping into him is a lot higher by the entrance. Plus, it looks like there’s actually a place for Chip to sit at the other end of the row, while there isn’t if they remain here.

“Yeah, okay, let’s do this,” he agrees.

The move is relatively uneventful, save for the moment when Jeff almost falls over when he trips on nothing. Damn his love of liquor. This is truly not his night.

No sooner are they sitting down again than a wave of pain shoots through Jeff's foot when he accidentally bumps it against the ground while shifting.

“Fuck,” he groans, bending forward and simultaneously lifting his foot off the floor.

“What is it?” Chip's hand is on his back, and he's leaning into Jeff's space with a concerned expression on his face.

“Nothing, I'm okay. I just banged my foot against the floor like the idiot that I am. If I elevate it, I'm sure it'll be fine.”

A logical plan, if he was Superman. But unfortunately, no amount of alcohol in Jeff's system will give him the necessary super strength he needs to keep his foot elevated off the ground for the duration of their wait. He lasts all of three minutes before he tries physically _holding_ his leg off the floor by hooking his arms under his thigh.

“You're not going to last long like that,” Chip comments, ever helpful.

Jeff would like to glare at him, but he's too busy holding his leg and attempting to ignore the pain. “Thanks. That's helpful. Any other words of wisdom for me?”

“Look, why don't we switch seats,” Chip says patiently. “I'll sit at the end instead and you can rest your leg on my lap.”

Jeff eyes him with curiosity. The idea sounds heavenly, or at the very least, a hell of a lot more appealing than his current plan. But... “That would be a real pain the ass for you, wouldn’t it? I couldn’t ask you to do that for me because I’m an idiot.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it, Jeff. It’s not a big deal at all.” Chip waves a dismissive hand. “Besides, it’s better that than you sitting here in excruciating pain while we wait, though, right? 

There isn't a single reason for Jeff to disagree with that logic, so he doesn't. After a bit of fumbling, shifting and no small amount of cursing (mostly from Jeff), they manage to rearrange themselves appropriately. Jeff’s body is turned towards Chip, right leg resting across his lap, ankle and foot hanging off the end, the other leg still planted firmly on the ground. Both of Chip’s hands rest lightly on Jeff’s leg, holding him in place. They are quite the sight to behold, but then considering where they are, that’s not saying much. Thankfully, everyone else in the waiting room seems to be too wrapped up in their own injuries or illnesses to take any notice of the two of them, much to Jeff’s relief.

“You think they’d allow alcohol in here, for purely medicinal reasons?” Jeff asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence pass.

Chip grins and shakes his head. “I’m gonna guess, no, but by all means, I can ask, if you’d like.”

“You're a good friend,” Jeff says, affection welling up in his chest. He closes his eyes against the pain.

“I know.” Chip pats his knee twice.

Their wait isn’t that long, according to all the clocks in the hospital, but it still feels like half an eternity by the time Jeff is finally seen by the ER physician. He pokes and prods and asks a bunch of questions before sending him off to get an x-ray. When the results finally come in, Jeff’s not sure whether to be happy or disappointed that it wasn’t more dramatic of an injury. 

“It looks like you’ve sprained your ankle, Mr. Davis,” the doctor says. “It’s quite a severe strain, but it should heal fully within a few weeks, provided you take proper care of it. I’m going to wrap your ankle with tensor bandages, and I want you to keep the weight off for at least a week. You should probably look into either renting or purchasing a set of crutches. You’ll also want to ice your leg for short intervals – no more than about 15 minutes at a time – and keep it elevated. This will prevent further swelling.”

The doctor jots something down on the clipboard he’s holding before handing Jeff two small pieces of paper. “Here’s a prescription to help with the pain and reduce inflammation. Take two every four hours. I’ve also given you the number of a couple local physiotherapists. I would highly recommend booking an appointment to see someone in the next week. They can give you exercises and help ensure you don’t lose any range of motion or functioning in that ankle, especially if you’re on your feet a lot. Any questions?”

Jeff shakes his head, and then the doctor is off in a flash to see the next patient.

“So, I guess we need to take care of these things then, huh?” Chip asks, taking the two slips of paper from Jeff’s proffered hand.

By the time they make it back to the hotel, Jeff is so worn out he can barely stand it. But at least the pain medication is finally starting to kick in. Chip sticks around to help him change, insisting Jeff is a safety risk if left alone, and even if it’s a little awkward, he’s simply far too exhausted to care. In typical Chip fashion, he sticks around until he’s sure Jeff will be all right on his own, helping to elevate his leg and apply an ice pack.

“You don’t have to stay any longer,” Jeff says eventually, halfway between wakefulness and sleep.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay for the night?” Chip asks, looking unconvinced.

“Yeah, I’m fine. The crutches are beside the bed, my leg is elevated, the bandages are still firmly wrapped around my ankle, and I’m properly hopped up on medication. I’ll be good for a few hours.” He gives Chip an appreciative smile. “You’ve already done way more than I could’ve ever asked for. _And_ you never called me out on being an idiot, even though I clearly was. So for all of that, I thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It was nothing.” Chip reaches out to ruffle Jeff’s hair affectionately, and Jeff feels warmth seep into him. Maybe it’s the drugs, or his exhaustion pulling him into a deep slumber, but it might also just be Chip. (In fact, it probably is.)

There are so many other things Jeff wants to say to Chip, but he’s fading so quickly that he’s not able to form the words properly. The last thing he hears before finally drifting off to sleep is the sound of his hotel door clicking shut as Chip slips out.

* * *

**III**

The day that Chip shows up at Jeff’s doorstep is neither a surprise, nor unexpected, but Jeff still wishes it hadn’t turned out this way in the end. He and Patty have been having problems in their marriage for the past couple of years, which has led to Chip spending the odd night here and there at Jeff’s. For a while, several months back, it looked as though perhaps things were finally beginning to improve for them, but clearly those gains were short-lived. One look at Chip’s face is all Jeff needs to know that, this time, he won’t be going back home the next day.

Clad in sweats and a ratty old grey t-shirt, Jeff steps away from the doorway and merely watches as Chip shuffles into his house with a suitcase and red, swollen eyes. He leads Chip down the hall to one of the spare bedrooms in silence – even though they both know he knows where to go by now – his heart breaking for his friend with every step they take.

The suitcase drops to the floor with a soft thud as Chip stands and stares, unblinking, at the bed, as though in a daze. Jeff folds his arms and watches from a few feet away, feeling helpless, useless, an ache seizing his chest and gripping him in a chokehold.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Chip says, eventually, turning his head towards Jeff, and he’s certain he has never seen Chip look so lost in his life. “I mean, I have my brother and parents... but it just didn’t feel right. I don’t think I can deal with either of them right now—” His voice breaks on the last two words, and he visibly shakes his head as if to clear it of whatever thoughts might be hiding in his mind. It kills Jeff that Chip is hurting like this, and he’s helpless to do anything about it.

“It’s okay. You know you’re always welcome here,” Jeff says. He reaches for Chip, hesitates a moment, then places a supportive hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

Chip’s gaze falls to the hand on his shoulder before turning sad eyes to Jeff. “What the hell am I gonna do now?”

“This whole thing is shit. But you’ll get through it, like you always do,” Jeff says, at length, and then he’s tugging on Chip’s shoulder, pulling him forward.

Chip practically falls into Jeff’s arms, accepting this small comfort as Jeff wraps him in a warm embrace. A heavy sigh falls from Chip’s mouth, and Jeff instinctively rubs a small circle onto Chip’s back, between his shoulder blades, as Chip’s hands press against the back of Jeff’s t-shirt. Despite the fact that they are always touching one another, Jeff and Chip rarely hug. But everything about this feels right and necessary, and if this is all he can do for his friend, then he’d rather do this than nothing at all.

“Thank you,” Chip says when they pull apart, eyes still glistening with unshed tears, and Jeff has to actively resist the urge to reach up and touch his face, tell him that he’s not alone, will never be alone because he’ll always have Jeff.

Instead, Jeff smiles gently. “Any time. So, I was about to get drunk and watch the first few _Fast and the Furious_ movies. You wanna join me?”

“Of course,” Chip says, but his voice lacks enthusiasm.

Neither end up drunk, however. Chip doesn’t seem to have the energy to drink himself stupid, instead spending most of the night staring blankly at the television screen, dark bags under his eyes and a heaviness to his posture that is wholly unfamiliar. Jeff has a few drinks, but ensures that he’s sober enough to watch out for Chip, in case he does decide to start pounding them down. The last thing Jeff needs is to be so out of it that he doesn’t notice Chip heading towards alcohol poisoning.

About halfway through _Fast & Furious_, Chip finally nods off on the couch. For a few moments, Jeff contemplates waking him up and sending him to bed, but by doing so he also runs the risk of preventing Chip from sleeping at all tonight. Better to get a couple hours now than to be woken up only to lay awake the rest of the night, he reasons. Instead, Jeff peels himself off the couch, slowly turns down the volume, and then quietly rummages through his hall closet for a blanket.

With a deliberate carefulness, Jeff lays the blanket across Chip’s body, keeping an eye on the steady rise and fall of his chest. Watching him sleep, there doesn’t seem to be any peace there, and the thought that Chip is being tormented in his dreams fills Jeff with sadness. He wants to run his fingers down Chip’s face, smooth out the worry lines, tell him that he’s still loved, but it’s too risky, Chip could wake up at any moment.

Making a quick decision, Jeff reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from Chip’s forehead, then scolds himself for being so sentimental and girly. Ten minutes later, he’s crawling into his own bed; sleep that night restless.

* * *

**IV**

All Jeff hears for the first couple of weeks from Chip is how _I’m going to find a place to stay, I promise. I’ll be out of your way by the end of the month, guaranteed._ It is a promise made daily, despite the fact that Jeff assures Chip he’s welcome to stay with him for as long as he needs. _Don’t be ridiculous. I couldn’t put you out like that,_ he says when Jeff tells him.

One month passes, then two, and suddenly, one day, Jeff wakes up to the realization that Chip has been living with him for almost four months. Perhaps even more surprising is the fact that Jeff finds he’s taken quite well to having Chip live with him.

Somewhere along the line, their temporary living arrangement shifts from ‘temporary’ to ‘slightly longer term’ in spite of the fact that neither of them have entered into any formal discussions about anything. Jeff has always lived by himself, in spite of having the room for roommates or a partner to move in. He’s just always enjoyed the freedom of having his own space without having to answer to anyone or change his lifestyle based on someone else. It’s served him well for close to 20 years, and he sure as hell isn’t expecting that to change now, after all this time.

They start filming season 2 of _Improv-a-Ganza_ and tour with _Whose Live Anyway?_ , as well as doing their own projects, but when they’re both in LA, Jeff finds there is something immensely comforting in the knowledge that he won’t be arriving home to an empty house. And Chip, for his part, seems to crave the company as well. It’s not easy for either of them at first, especially Chip, given what he’s gone through. As quickly as his whole life gets turned upside down, Jeff finds that it’s flipped back to a sense of normalcy frighteningly quickly.

Usually when they’re both in the city, Chip is home before Jeff, and more often than not, they sit down and eat a late dinner while receiving updates on each other’s day. Sometimes Chip cooks, sometimes Jeff, and sometimes they cook together. With vastly different skill sets and different definitions of “healthy” (Jeff is far less stringent on his definition than Chip), they both end up learning from each other.

Even Chip’s kids, whom he’s always liked, have managed to weasel their way into his heart and home effortlessly. Jeff likes children – he adores his niece to pieces – but he’s never really seen himself as the fatherly type. But Chip’s kids – whom he’s known since they were just little – aren’t really all that small any longer. They get on Jeff’s case about his insistence on having a clean kitchen, constantly beg him for homework help, and still call him “Uncle Jeff.” But no matter what they’re doing, they actually start to become a presence he’s used to, and even _enjoys_.

The whole thing is dangerously close to being domestic, and yet contrary to everything he’s ever believed about himself, Jeff finds that he enjoys having Chip in his life even more than he ever thought possible. Of course, they bicker over the stupidest things initially, and there are times when they both know they need a break from one another, but for the most part, things are rather fantastic.

So a couple of weeks later, when Chip comes up to Jeff, waving a newspaper around and stating that he thinks he may have found a place to live, Jeff is more than a little taken aback, and far less excited than he feels he probably should be.

“What do you mean you found a place?”

“I mean that I found a nice two-bedroom condo for rent that’s looking to have someone move in as soon as possible.” He lays the paper on top of the island in the middle of the kitchen and points to the ad he’s conveniently circled in red.

Jeff glances down at the listing sceptically. “Looks nice,” he says at last, voice soft.

“I sense a ‘but’ in there?”

“Well, it’s only a two-bedroom, so is that enough room for you and the kids, when they visit?”

Chip tilts his head to the side, looking thoughtful. “It’s fairly spacious – about 1,600 square feet. I can just sleep on the couch on the weekends I have them. Besides, it’s not a permanent place, just something for now to get out of your hair.”

“How many times have I told you that you’re welcome to stay as long as you want?” Jeff says, light-hearted tone belying his true feelings.

“I know you say that, and I’m sure you mean it. But I can’t keep imposing on you forever, Jeff. It’s already been over four months. I shouldn’t have stayed this long, even.”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. If I wanted you out, I would’ve told you already.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” Chip carries on, “but you don’t want me living with you forever. I’m sure I’ve already cramped your style enough as it is. Besides, there's no reason for me to stay here. Right?” Chip asks. Maybe he’s mistaken, but Jeff is sure there is a hint of disappointment in his tone. Possibly even something resembling hope.

There are a million reasons he could provide as to why Chip should stay, but he can't bring himself to share the most important one. Somehow, somewhere over the course of the past four months, Chip's managed to worm his way into Jeff's life in a way he never before imagined possible. They're not together, likely never will be, but Jeff thinks that he could get used to this. Then again, maybe that's the entire problem right there – that he _has_ gotten used to having Chip around, and now that he's had a taste, he can't bring himself to go back to how it was before. Even his hesitance to let Chip move out, when it's a perfectly reasonable and logical thing for him to do, is probably far more telling than Jeff would care to admit.

“I guess there's not,” he finally says, feeling a bit saddened by the whole thing. “Not really, anyway. I mean, this is a great neighborhood with lots of other kids their age around, and I definitely have the space for all of you. Plus, it's close to the school and rec center. Oh, and that stupid restaurant with the salad bar that you seem to like so much, though God only knows why. But I'm sure you want your own space and to get out of this eternal bachelor pad.”

Chip tilts his head and gives Jeff a funny look. Inexplicably, he is suddenly overcome with the desire to wrap his arms around Chip, tell him to stay because Jeff can’t imagine life without him, but that feels strangely inappropriate.

“Actually, I really enjoy living with you,” Chip says, voice fond. The way he’s staring at Jeff now does something funny to his body, causing his stomach to flip and his heart rate to quicken almost instantaneously.

Jeff swallows and tries to avoid looking at Chip’s eyes, or his mouth, or any part of him, really. There is a part of Jeff that knows, logically, he should probably try and convince Chip to move out of his place. But Jeff’s never really been a fan of logic. “I’m glad you’re here. I really fucking enjoy having you around, actually, much to my surprise. You and your kids. Teenage monsters. Whatever.”

The smile that falls across Chip’s face is bright and genuine, and Jeff can’t quite stop himself from reaching out to squeeze Chip’s arm.

“Thank you. It makes me happy to hear that,” he says, and then, just like that, Chip is leaving the room again, the discussion effectively ended for now.

~*~

Three days later, when Jeff asks Chip when he anticipates moving out, Chip merely shakes his head and says, "It ended up falling through. Is it okay if I stay here a little while longer?"

The whole thing seems a bit suspicious, but Jeff doesn't ask any questions, merely accepting everything at face value and cheering his good luck.

There is no more talk of anyone moving anywhere for quite some time.

* * *

**V**

He’s sitting on Dan’s deck, beer in one hand and a veggie-burger in the other. It’s late September, but the sun is still hot on this early Sunday evening, making it feel more like summer than fall.

“So, what’s new?” Dan asks, as if they haven’t talked in weeks, even though they have.

“What do you mean, ‘what’s new’? Nothing. I just talked to you a couple days ago,” Jeff says, and then bites into his burger, relishing the taste. Since Chip moved in, Jeff has found himself eating considerably healthier, and even liking it, much to his surprise. But he still can’t remember the last time he had barbequed burgers, and makes a mental note to do something about that soon.

“Try a couple of weeks, man.”

Jeff blinks. “What are you talking about? We _just_ spoke a few days ago.”

“Maybe in that little world inside your head, but not in reality. It’s been almost two weeks since the last time I spoke to you.” Dan stares at him pointedly.

“No fucking way.” That seems impossible. Dan’s one of his best friends. They rarely go more than a few days without speaking, unless there’s something specifically preventing them from doing so.

“Yes fucking way,” Dan says with a nod. He points the tip of his beer bottle at Jeff. “I think the last time we talked, you said you were going to watch Chip’s son’s soccer tournament or something?”

A frown tugs at Jeff’s lips, the hand holding his burger stopping in the air halfway to his mouth as his brain struggles to process this information. When he finally recalls the date of that tournament and does the math, he’s hit with the realization that Dan is right. Fuck. It _has_ been nearly two weeks since the last time he talked to his supposed best friend.

Jeff shakes his head. “Shit, you’re right. How the hell did that happen?”

“I have a couple of theories,” Dan says carefully. He eyes Jeff, like he knows something Jeff doesn’t, and takes a long sip of his beer.

“Oh, yeah? Then let’s hear them.”

“Okay, I lied. I don’t have a couple of theories. Just one.”

Jeff suddenly has a feeling he’s not going to like where this is going. “Which is?”

“That the best friend’s always the first to lose face time when someone’s in a relationship.” Dan shrugs casually, like it’s no big deal.

But Jeff is confused as hell. What kind of crazy ass theory is this? “Wait, what the fuck are you talking about? I’m not in a relationship,” he says, brows furrowing.

“Aren’t you?”

“ _No_. Are you high or something? I’m not in a relationship with anyone. Who do you _think_ I’m dating?”

A low rumbling laugh spills from Dan, and he shakes his head. “If you need me to tell you, you’re really more clueless than I ever gave you credit for. Think about it, Jeff.”

So he does. Very carefully. It doesn’t take him long to figure out the answer to Dan’s supposition. Oh. _Oh_. Well, then.

“You think I’m dating _Chip_?” Jeff cries, and if his voice happens to squeak at the end, Dan doesn’t point it out.

“And are you going to try and tell me you’re _not_?” Dan meets his gaze, challenge in his eyes.

“Of course I am. Things aren’t like that between us.”

“Yeah, but you want them to be, and don’t you dare fucking deny it either,” Dan points out, and Jeff would like to slap him for it, true or not.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, because that doesn’t change the truth. Which happens to be that Chip and I are just close friends, and nothing more,” Jeff says, waving his half-full beer around now. Thankfully, none of it sloshes out of the bottle.

“Fuck that. How long has he been living with you now?”

It takes a moment for Jeff to actually calculate the answer. “About 15 months, I think.”

Dan smiles. “And how many people have you dated since he moved in with you?”

It’s an unfair question, at best. Jeff’s had a busy year and there’s been a lot of chaos in his life and so what if he’d rather spend time with Chip than date other people and where the fuck does Dan get off making large, baseless accusations like this anyway?

“I’ve been on a few dates,” he says eventually, but is unable to keep the defensive tone from his voice.

“How many of those have you slept with?”

Jeff frowns, and in the hot sun, he can feel his face heating. “What the hell has that got to do with anything?”

“I’m just trying to prove a point, man,” Dan says, throwing his hands up in fake surrender. “You haven’t slept with any of them, have you?”

The only answer he receives is a glare from Jeff, but it seems to be enough for Dan to continue. “You’ve brought Chip as your ‘date’ to virtually every event I’ve been to with you over the past year, even if you’ve never called it that. You spend time with his kids and take them to their sports games and go watch them in their school musicals. And more than half of every conversation I have with you somehow ends up revolving around Chip or what you’re doing with Chip or something amusing Chip said.”

Jeff opens his mouth to protest, but Dan holds up a hand. Clearly he’s not done yet.

“I’ve seen your improv shows. Hell, I see you two interact all the goddamn time. You’re both all over each other at every fucking moment. I’ve seen teenagers with better restraint than the two of you.”

“That isn’t true,” Jeff grumbles, even as a sinking feeling is starting to settle in the pit of his stomach at Dan’s words.

“Yes, it is, and you know it. Look, I’m not judging you, man, so don’t go getting all indignant on me. I know you’re in love with the guy and have been for years. It’s cool. I think Chip’s a fucking great guy all around and he sure as hell seems to adore you, though I can’t imagine why.” At this, Dan shoots him a teasing smirk, and Jeff can’t help the tiny smile that slips onto his face. “You may claim you’re not dating him, but you basically are. Minus the sex. Unless you guys _are_ having sex and you just decided not to tell me about it? Which, actually, come to think of it, I really don’t _want_ to know what goes on in your bedroom.”

This time, Jeff can’t help but laugh. “No, we’re not having sex, Dan. God.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should be. Might get that proverbial stick out of your ass finally and help you loosen up a bit.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but in order to have consensual sex, both parties have to be willing and eager to participate,” Jeff points out with a sigh.

The look of disbelief on Dan’s face is almost comical. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Jeff just stares at him.

“Do you really think that Chip isn’t interested in you?”

“He’s not even divorced yet,” Jeff says, ignoring the little ache that’s suddenly sitting in his chest.

“So? That doesn’t mean shit. They’ve been separated for over a year now. He’s still a man with needs. I don’t even know why I have to tell you this. You’re a guy, for God’s sake. You know what it’s like. Take whatever frustrations you have and apply them tenfold to Chip.”

“He’s not gay,” Jeff adds feebly.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Dan says with a sarcastic smirk. “He has kids and was married. You know he’s attracted to women. But that doesn’t mean he can’t like men. Or even just you. There’s no rule out there about sexuality and how it works, man. Besides, you’ve been with women before too.”

Jeff sighs. God, he wants to believe that Dan’s right so fucking much, but it’s frightening to take that risk, because what if he’s wrong?

“Even Erin asked me if you two were shacking up.” Erin is Dan’s fiancé, and also one of his closest friends. She spends a lot of time with Dan, Jeff, Chip and the rest of their friends, so it’s not completely absurd that she might’ve noticed something going on.

“And what if I fuck everything up by saying something to Chip? Then what? I lose one of my best friends? I don’t know that I can do it,” Jeff says, staring at his feet.

"Look, it's your life, so do whatever you want. All I'm saying is that eventually there has to come a time when you decide to take a risk and step out of your comfort zone," Dan says. "I'm no expert, but I really don't think it's a stretch to assume that Chip wants you too. But even if you don't believe me, isn't it worth trying? The worst that'll happen is that he moves out and things will be a bit awkward between you two for a while. But honestly, man? I don't think it will ruin your friendship if he knows how you feel about him and doesn't feel the same. And if he has a thing for you too, then you guys can finally stop doing this fucking dance you've been doing for however long it’s been now, and just get your shit together. Besides, this tortured soul thing you've had going on for the last six months is really getting old. Where's the confident, self-assured Jeff I know and mildly tolerate?" Dan tacks on a smirk at the end, to go along with the playful rub, and Jeff knows in his heart that he's right.

It’s not as if there’s nothing there between them. He’s felt it for years, even before Chip moved in with him, this raw tension hovering just beneath the surface of all their interactions, but he never pursued it... was never even able to put a name to anything. And maybe it’s changed over the years in intensity and focus, but deep down, he suspects that perhaps Dan is right after all, which only seems to make the whole thing seem even more frightening.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him,” Jeff says, at long last. “Are you satisfied now?”

“As long as you are.” Dan chugs the rest of his beer and sits back, looking pleased with himself. “So now that we’ve got that out of the way, have I got a fucking story for you...”

~*~

When Jeff finally leaves Dan's place, it's already quite late, the sun having slunk below the horizon hours ago, so he's not expecting Chip to still be awake. On the drive home, he even manages to convince himself that this is true, secure in the hope that he won't have to have this conversation tonight. There is no denying that Dan's right – something has to give – and it appears that Jeff is the one who needs to make the first move. As terrifying as it might seem to expose himself and risk everything they have, it is an equally terrifying idea to go through the rest of his life never knowing if he could've had something more with Chip. Ultimately that, in the end, is what finally pushes him over the edge.

All the same, he's more than happy to put off the task for one more night.

Unfortunately, fate doesn’t seem to be on his side tonight, as is evidenced by the Chip-shaped blob watching TV on his couch when Jeff arrives home.

It’s possible he lets out a tiny squeak, though he’ll deny it later, should anyone ever bring it up. “Oh. Um, hi?” he says, dumbly.

Chip casts a smile in his direction. “Hey!”

Usually, Jeff would enter his house like a normal human being and either join Chip on the couch, or go straight to his bedroom. Today, however, his body decides it has other plans, and he finds himself literally paralyzed at the thought of having to move. So he doesn’t. He just stares over at Chip, mind racing as he struggles to figure out what to say or do.

"Jeff, are you okay?" Chip stands, shutting off the TV and tossing the remote onto the couch.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't expect to see you up at this hour." He finally manages to get a hold of himself and slips off his shoes, taking a few steps forward into the living room. He can feel his heart rate quicken, heat rise in his cheeks, and he wills Chip to just ignore him, turn away, go to bed instead of forcing Jeff's hand on this conversation.

But of course he wouldn’t be Chip if he simply ignored a friend in need, and for the first time that Jeff can remember, he wishes Chip _wasn’t_ so attentive to others. In a split second, Chip makes his way across the room, standing a few feet away and eyeing Jeff with curiosity, completing the stance with a hand on his chin.

"Seriously, Jeff, what's wrong? You don't look so hot. Are you sure you're all right?"

This is the moment, Jeff decides, when he can either run away and hide, or stand firm and tell Chip exactly how he feels about him. This wasn’t exactly part of his plan, but the reality is that there’s no legitimate reason for Jeff to put this off any longer, and if he does, he suspects he may never work up the courage to do anything. 

"No. Actually, I'm not," Jeff admits, biting down on the inside of his cheek. Chip's proximity is doing nothing to stave off the overwhelming attraction he suddenly feels, and that, combined with nerves, is making him feel extremely out of sorts. It's as if his skin is coursing with electricity, sensitive to the shirt clinging to his back, the air moving around them, the energy between them.

“Okay. Is there anything you want to talk about, then?” Chip asks, green eyes shining with concern, and maybe something else.

And in that split second, Jeff makes a decision.

“No, there’s nothing I want to talk about.”

Jeff’s always been a man of action, so why should this situation be any different? He steps forward, into Chip’s personal space, and reaches up to palm the back of Chip’s neck, thumb brushing against his jaw line. There is just the smallest hitch of breath from Chip, but it is enough to embolden Jeff, spurn him forward.

“I think I’d rather just show you.”

He searches Chip’s expression for any sign that this won’t be received well, but when he sees nothing to indicate any resistance, he takes it as a sign and finally, _finally_ kisses Chip.

* * *

**VI**

It is a cool and windy day, even for the end of January in Los Angeles. Of course, this is where Jeff finds Chip, outside on the deck with nothing more than a light jacket on.

Jeff pulls open the back door, which is noisy enough to alert Chip to his presence, but he seems lost in thought, leaning forward on the deck railing and staring off into space. If he’s heard Jeff, Chip makes no indication of it.

Letting out a small cough to ensure Chip knows he’s there, Jeff makes his way across the deck until he’s standing directly behind him.

“Hey, you,” Jeff says softly, pressing his body against Chip’s back. He plants a kiss on the back of Chip’s neck before wrapping his arms around Chip’s waist and pulling him into a tight embrace from behind. “Are you okay?”

Almost immediately, Jeff can feel a light pressure from Chip pressing back into him, and Chip removes his hands from the railing in order to cover Jeff’s arms with his own.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about how so much has changed in the past year.”

Jeff nods, resting his chin on Chip’s shoulder. They’ve officially been dating for close to four months now. As it turned out, most of their friends were surprised that they weren’t _already_ together, and thus far they’d mostly been showered with love, support and acceptance from everyone around them. But today is the day that Chip’s divorce has finally gone through, making him truly free to be with whomever he pleases. Jeff knows this is difficult for him, even if he tries to claim otherwise, so he’s been especially mindful of that today.

“It’s a lot. I can’t imagine any of it has been easy for you,” Jeff says, slipping one hand beneath Chip’s jacket and thin cotton shirt, rubbing tiny circles onto Chip’s stomach. He’s always enjoyed touching Chip, but the novelty of being able to do so whenever he wants and as much as he wants still hasn’t worn off yet. Thankfully, Chip is almost as touchy-feely as Jeff is, otherwise they might have a problem.

Chip shakes his head. “No, it hasn’t always been easy. But it hasn’t been all terrible, either. Obviously when I got married, I never expected things to end like this. But they did, and now my life is very different. Not bad, though, just different than I thought it would be, years ago.”

A silence falls between them, long, but not uncomfortable, as they both stare off into the distance, still wrapped in each other’s arms. The chill from the evening air isn’t quite as bad with the warmth Chip’s body provides, but Jeff still can’t help but shiver at a particularly strong gust of wind.

As the silence stretches, Jeff starts to wonder... Chip’s been quieter than usual the last couple of days, with the knowledge that his divorce was about to be finalized. He’s claimed that the whole thing hasn’t been bothering him, but Jeff knows otherwise. Try as he might, Jeff can’t seem to ignore the worries that even now occasionally pop into his mind. What if Chip regrets this relationship? What if he’s not as invested as Jeff? What if he still misses his old life? It’s selfish, but Jeff can’t help the fears that crop up, even if he knows, logically, that there’s little basis for any of them.

“You’re sure you’re happy with your life how it is now? Like really happy with... everything?”

He hates the insecurity he hears in his voice, hates that he's doubting this relationship, and by extension, Chip. But if this isn't what Chip wants, then Jeff needs to know, sooner rather than later, before he's too invested, too addicted to give him up. Though, if he's being honest with himself, Jeff has been too invested in Chip for well over a decade now.

Chip pulls away from him, turning in Jeff's arms until they're facing one another, and reaches up with a hand to run the pads of his fingers across Jeff's cheek, a fond expression on his face.

“If you're talking about you, then yes, I am happy. Stupidly so. And before you even think about asking, no, I don't wish things were different. Not for a second.”

“But it must be hard, especially now that your marriage is officially over?”

Chip smiles at him, green eyes sincere and warm. “Obviously I never intended for my marriage to fall apart, but it happens, Jeff. And truth be told, Patty and I haven't had a marriage for close to three years now. I didn't need a piece of paper to tell me that. Do I regret some of the decisions I made in the past? Of course. But do I regret starting a relationship with you? Not a chance. It won't happen. You've been a constant in my life for damn near fifteen years, and I want you to be around for at least another, I don’t know, fifty.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be dead by then,” Jeff says with a laugh.

“Yeah, you wish.”

Jeff pretends to seriously consider this before smiling softly. “Nah, not really.”

The grin that overtakes Chip’s face fills Jeff with a sense of joy, much like the very first time they met. He’s still surprised at his own sentimentality sometimes, though Dan would clock him for it. Chip’s fingers press lightly into the back of his neck, and it’s all the encouragement Jeff needs to lean down and close the gap between them. Chip is still smiling into the kiss, and Jeff lets out a breathy laugh when he parts his lips for Chip’s tongue, tightening the grip he has around Chip’s waist. The kiss doesn’t last very long by their standards, but it is sweet and loving and everything Jeff needs to be certain that Chip’s as invested in this relationship as he is.

“God, I love you so much,” Jeff says, when they part for air.

It comes out so naturally that he almost doesn’t realize what he’s said until it hits him smack in the face. Unfortunately it’s too late to take it back. Except, Jeff realizes that he doesn’t actually _want_ to take it back. He’s spent over a decade keeping his feelings for Chip hidden, and now that they’re actually dating, he finds he wants to say it all the time. Shout it from the rooftop, so that everyone knows how much he loves Chip. They’ve been together for four months now, so he figures it’s about damn time that he allows himself to be honest about this last thing, consequences be damned.

“Don’t look so panicked,” Chip teases.

“I’m not,” Jeff lies, shooting Chip what he hopes is a convincing smile. “It’s just... a big admission.”

Chip nods. “It is. But you don’t have anything to be worried about.” He leans forward again, capturing Jeff’s mouth in a tender kiss.

“No?” Jeff asks, smile tentative, but hopeful, when they pull apart.

“No,” Chip echoes. “Because I love you too, and don’t you dare doubt that, okay?”

Jeff nods, warmth filling his chest. He pulls Chip back into his arms, squeezing him in a firm embrace.

“So, now that we’ve established that...?” Jeff asks, face still buried in Chip’s neck.

“Well, I’m officially a free man now,” Chip says. “I’ve got a couple of ideas as to how we could celebrate, but I’m afraid none of them would be appropriate out here.”

He offers his hand to Jeff, when they separate, a smirk and eyebrow waggle clearing up any possible uncertainty as to his intentions. Jeff grins, accepting Chip’s hand as they make their way back into the house, threading their fingers together. This is certainly one celebration that he intends to make last as long as possible.


End file.
